Exit, Pursued by a Bear
by Druzhnik
Summary: As the events surrounding Saren's involvement with the Reapers unfold, Cerberus proves to be more malicious than previously expected. Commander Alyssa Shepard is confronted with unforeseen twists that will push her to her limits. Will she be able to save the galaxy from its demise or will the unexpected claim victory? (AU version of ME1, FemShep/Liara romance)
1. Prologue I: The Turian

**Exit, Pursued by a Bear**

The sky was blue with wisps of overhanging clouds floating by in an endless stream of white. Beyond, the Serpent Nebula shone in its characteristic purple hue. Five arms stretched outward, reaching into space. The Citadel awed everyone who docked there for the first time in their lives. Some remained in awe and relived their wonder at such beauty every time they arrived.

He wouldn't admit it to anyone, but Nihlus Kryik was one of those people. Growing up in the outskirts of the Turian Hierarchy, he had never felt completely at home in turian society. Nor did he feel at ease. Most of his young life was spent trying to fit in.

_A young turian looks at two of his classmates brawling. He is part of a crowd, but is not one of 'them'. He looks at his peers and tries to mimic their expressions. He clicks his mandibles when they do. He shouts when they do. His fringe bounces up when theirs do. He catches Tibelius' watchful eyes, measuring him with barely hidden contempt. They're standing directly across from one another. Tibelius widens his mandibles, baring his pointed teeth. He points at Nihlus and shoots him a knowing look, reminding him that whatever he does, he will never be like the rest of them._

His efforts were wasted on his peers and instructors. Whatever Nihlus did, he remained an "outpost-born". An outcast. A fatherless boy without any status in society. He had always had to fight for what he wanted, and fight the hard way. In a society that depended on the unconditional following of rules set by superiors, Nihlus stood out for his unconditional following of what he thought was right, even if that meant disobeying the rules. Most turians chalked this behavior up to the circumstances surrounding his birth and the absence of a father. It was…unnatural. And even though his mother had thought the turian military was the only way to give her son some sort of status in turian society, his perpetual incompetence to follow rules — in his instructor's eyes — often got him in trouble.

_He's being pushed to his knees roughly. A tall turian towers over him, flanked by two others. They sent the general this time. The general is telling him he is disappointed in him. That he's incorrigible. He should've listened to the orders, not gone off to save some pole-dancing asari from her well-deserved fate. She was bait, nothing more. His troublesome behavior endangered the whole mission. _

"_Nihlus. You're a promising and strong soldier. Stop disappointing your fellows, your commander, me, and that poor father of yours who is looking down on you from his place among the Spirits and most definitely gritting his mandibles in mortification. You shame his memory."_

Yet nobody could mistake Nihlus' keen eye for his enemy's weaknesses for incompetence. Nobody questioned his strategic judgement. Nobody dared challenge him to a fight, knowing full well they would lose. And nobody could ever catch Nihlus in the act of doing something unlawful. The turian military was split between wanting one of their top soldiers to remain within their ranks and punishing disobedience with demotion.

When their dilemma reached Saren Arterius' ears, he took Nihlus under his protection and groomed him into a SpecTRe. Nihlus had never forgotten — nor would he ever forget — the very first moment he laid eyes upon the magnificence that was the Citadel. Here, he wasn't treated like an outcast. Here, he was a member of one of the three Council races. A member of the elite SpecTRes. Nobody looked down on him. Within the span of a couple of years he had become one of the most decorated SpecTRes and when his former classmates reached out to him, sending him messages asking for a recommendation to their superiors, he laughed grimly and politely declined. Nihlus Kryik did not do what wasn't right.

Now, he was standing in front of a docked frigate; a sleek vessel with grey coating and black and red markings. _Normandy _was written on its hull. _SR1 _on its wings. He looked at the ship that would be his home for the next few weeks or months, depending on how long his assessment of the new candidate would take. Nihlus had no hard feelings toward humans. The similarity between his upbringing and humanity's current status in the galactic community even made him sympathize with them. This attitude had further estranged him from the larger part of turian society, and eventually from his closest friend and mentor, Saren.

When the Normandy's airlock opened and a tall human in dress blues Nihlus recognized as Captain David Anderson walked out, he clicked his mandibles and walked over, extending his right hand, talons pressed together to avoid doing harm, in imitation of the customary human greeting. Anderson grabbed on to it with his right hand and shook briefly.

"Nihlus, it's good to see you." Anderson's voice was strong and low, an authoritative rumble that many human women found comforting. According to certain popular news blogs, that is.

"It's a pleasure to see you too, Captain Anderson. Elli Zander was a horrible choice to act as this ship's CO to begin with, and I'm glad humanity sobered up and put you on the job. Is the candidate aboard? I'd like to meet her as soon as possible and begin assessment."

David Anderson offered a smile. Even though Elli Zander was highly regarded within the Alliance military, the turians had always disliked her. Apparently even Nihlus shared that opinion. Anderson shook his head.

"No, she isn't. Rachel Vytes, her former N7 instructor, is on her way to tell her about her assignment to the Normandy as we speak. I expect she'll be here shortly. In the meantime, why don't I show you to your quarters?"

David extended an arm in the direction of the frigate, inviting Nihlus to board first. The turian nodded agreement.

* * *

The Normandy had put in a requisition order for dextro meals two hours ago. Just two hours, yet everything had changed. Suddenly there was a turian on board. A goddamn _turian_! Unbelievable! The fact that the SA had let itself in with the Turian Hierarchy to build this ship was near blasphemy, but subsequently letting one of them on board to _spy_ on human crew was unforgivable. Had they completely forgotten about the First Contact War?

They had left him no choice. He had to do something. The Normandy's mechanical engineer plugged his omnitool into the system and opened his omni's messaging system. He would have to act quickly. The Normandy's VI was temporarily taken offline to perform some last minute tweaks before leaving the Citadel, and so his message could be sent unnoticed. He could not risk being discovered. Humanity needed him and the SA would probably not understand.

He used an address he had gotten from someone he met at the Citadel a couple of weeks ago. He didn't know the person but — from the way he was approached with a certain air of determination — he sensed he had been targeted specifically. Initial doubts and a wavering loyalty to the Systems Alliance had kept him passive, until now. His message was short, but clear. As instructed.

"_TCfo04 wishes to join the cause. Stationed with CDA. Newly graduated N7O AS being recruited. Member of TH and CS ranks on board. Concern evident. Awaiting orders."_

He pressed the send button and heaved a sigh.

_Dad, brother, this is for you_.

* * *

"Mother, I don't know yet, okay?" Alyssa Shepard let out an exasperated sigh while looking around uncomfortably. They were sitting in a small restaurant on the Presidium, amidst the hustle and bustle of diplomats, shoppers, tourists, business people, and many others making their way through the eternally busy headquarters of galactic government. Alyssa both liked and disliked being at the Citadel. Having spent her childhood on ships, going from posting to posting, she was accustomed to small and cramped spaces and couldn't seem to get used to the Citadel's seeming vastness. There was something about the way it could suddenly crowd that made her uncomfortable as well. She liked the familiar confines of Alliance ships and couldn't for a second imagine working on this large space station, much less living on it.

"Alright, I'm just trying to suggest to you that it may be a good idea to have an apartment here to come home to when you're off-duty. You need to have a life outside work, too, you know. Especially now that you're done with your N7 training." Alyssa's mother, Hannah Shepard, looked so much like her daughter that many mistook them for sisters. They were both pale-skinned with freckles on their cheeks and noses, had blue eyes the color of a deep sea, and flowing black hair. It was just the nose that was decidedly different. Alyssa's was a little longer and thinner, much like her father's had been. It certainly wasn't the part of her body she was most proud of.

She tried not to roll her eyes as she regarded her mother, who eyed her with feigned patience. "I know, mom. I just don't like the Citadel very much. Chalk it up to a ghost from my childhood." She picked at her noodles indifferently.

It was Hannah's turn to make an effort not to roll her eyes. "I see you haven't lost your penchant for drama in the N7s. Well, do whatever you want. I've learned by now that I can't make you do anything you don't want to do." Hannah Shepard delivered the last sentence with resignation, though she smiled a slightly proud smile. Her daughter's character was so much like her father's had been. Alyssa grinned widely.

"Shepard!" sounded a voice from behind. Alyssa recognized the voice immediately and paled. She hadn't prepared for that. _Shit. She wasn't supposed to meet my mother just yet. Not before I've collected enough courage to tell her I have a crush on her…_

She turned around and flashed her former N7-instructor a smile. "Hi, Major Vytes. I hadn't expected to see you here." Alyssa cursed herself for her sheepish delivery. Rachel Vytes didn't seem to notice. She walked over to the table where the two Shepard women were having their noodle lunch and extended a hand in Hannah's direction.

"Major Rachel Vytes. I presume you are Shepard's mother? Nice to finally meet you."

Hannah smiled and introduced herself in turn. They chatted briefly but amicably, Major Vytes telling Hannah about how good a marine Alyssa was and how she must've gotten her skills from her mother. Hannah, for her part, mentioned how highly Alyssa had always spoken of the Major, not knowing that most of that praise was due to Alyssa's infatuation with her instructor. Meanwhile, Alyssa was clasping her hands together nervously and hoping to suddenly catch fire and die. Since that probably wouldn't happen anytime soon, she settled for a diversion.

"What brings you to the Citadel, Major? Business?"

Rachel's green eyes settled on Alyssa, who shivered involuntarily. Those eyes always got to her.

"Actually, yes. The business even involves you, Shepard."

Alyssa arched an eyebrow, ignoring the slightly disturbed glance her mother shot her.

"I know you wanted to be assigned to the SSV Shanghai, but there's been a change of plans. Captain Anderson has requested you to act as his XO. As of today, you'll be serving on the SSV Normandy. I've come to escort you in person because there is something I want to tell you before you report in." Major Vytes paused to measure Alyssa's response.

Alyssa's eyes had widened in surprise at the mention of Anderson's name, and had almost bulged out of their sockets at the mention of her immediately becoming an XO. Hannah Shepard was watching her daughter and beaming with pride. It was she who spoke up first.

"It took me much longer than it took you, Lissie. Good job, I'm proud of you." She smiled at her daughter, who was still at a loss for words.

_There's something I want to tell you._

Alyssa forced herself to smile at the two women who in their own way were the most important people in her life.

"I see the cat's got your tongue, Shepard," the Major teased, "but that's alright. Happens to the best of us. Unfortunately Captain Anderson has requested your prompt presence, so I must ask you to take leave of your mother and come with me. I've had your gear transferred to the Normandy already, so you're set to go. I'll give you a couple of minutes to say goodbye." She shook Hannah's hand again — who replied with a polite 'thank you, Major' — and backed away a few steps to give the Shepards some privacy.

Hannah Shepard got up and pulled her startled daughter up and into a hug.

"You go, honey. I'll be fine. Just remember to keep in touch with your old mother every once in a while, okay?" The last sentence was accompanied by a wink.

Alyssa finally snapped out of her confusion. She eyed her mother and nodded. "I will, mom. I don't know what's going on, but I'll tell you as soon as I know more. Oh, and, thanks for the noodles." She grinned.

Hannah chuckled and shook her head. "You stay out of trouble. Now, go. Duty calls."

Alyssa nodded again and walked over to the Major, who gave Hannah a curt wave and then led Alyssa off to the docking bays.

* * *

"So you're telling me I'm going to serve on a ship alongside a SpecTRe?" Alyssa's voice was filled with disbelief. _This can't be happening. I just graduated!_

They had exited the elevator seconds ago and were now walking in the docking bay. The Normandy loomed in the distance, its engines already fired up and waiting for take-off. A lone figure stood guard in front of the airlock. Spotting the two approaching women, the guard touched his earpiece and spoke a few words. Major Vytes placed her hand on Alyssa's elbow and motioned her to stop walking.

She sighed before nodding. "Yes, Shepard, and I can't say I like it very much. Don't get me wrong; of all the students I've taught, _you_ are the one who has shown most promise. I wouldn't be surprised if you'd become the Fleet Master one day. But Captain Anderson specifically requesting you as his XO, and a SpecTRe subsequently emerging from nowhere to accompany your ship on its supposed shakedown run is too big a coincidence to actually _be_ a coincidence."

While Alyssa felt a surge of pride at being called Rachel's best student, the dominating feelings flowing through her right now were awe at serving with a SpecTRe right off the bat and nervous curiosity at hearing that Rachel was concerned about her. Realizing that the Major was probably waiting for some sort of response, she collected herself and locked eyes with Rachel's.

"What do you think it means, Major?" she made herself ask. Yes, she was concerned, but a part of her also just wanted to drown in those eyes.

Major Vytes frowned while she tried to formulate an answer in her head. "To be honest, I don't know. Maybe that's what concerns me the most; the fact that I can't make any sense of it. Captain Anderson would never do anything to intentionally harm you, but that SpecTRe unnerves me. Just be on your guard, Shepard." She seemed as if she wanted to say more, but apparently thought the better of it and glanced at the Normandy. Two figures were exiting the airlock. One of them was definitely not human. "It's a beautiful, powerful new ship. It's an honour to serve on it, especially in a commanding role. Yet I want to ask you to keep in touch with me and tell me what that SpecTRe is up to. Will you do that, Shepard?"

Alyssa mouthed an affirmative. She wanted to know what the Major had wanted to say before she changed her mind. _If she feels uneasy, then maybe I should trust her instincts. _

_Should I tell her I'll keep in touch if only because I have a crush on her?_

Before Alyssa could make up her mind, a deep voice called out to them. "Major Vytes! Commander Shepard! Good of you to come here on such short notice."

David Anderson came walking up to them with a tall turian on his heels. The turian's faceplates were dark with elaborate white markings. Alyssa could see his red-lined black armor was top-notch. Definitely not standard issue. An upgraded M8 Avenger hung carelessly at his side, a constant reminder of the turian's deadliness with even the simplest of weapons.

_This must be the SpecTRe._

Alyssa saluted the two men, and the Major did the same. Anderson saluted them back but the turian simply gave them a stiff nod. Alyssa supposed SpecTRes were always on official business, probably growing impatient at the multitude of salutes, handshakes, and bows they must constantly receive. And with every race having its own way of greeting others, adhering to the right procedures every single time must get tiresome. She couldn't help but notice the turian's keen attention for her. He barely even glanced at the Major.

_Weird._

"Thank you, Captain," Rachel replied politely. She turned toward the turian. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Kryik. If I may call you that." She gave him a tight smile. The turian simply nodded again. The frown returned on Rachel's face. She was not pleased.

"Thank you for requesting me as your XO, Captain," Alyssa interjected before the Major could express her displeasure. "And it's an honour to meet a SpecTRe, Mr. Kryik." She regarded the turian and was met with an appraising stare.

"The Systems Alliance High Military Command has high hopes for you, Shepard. I am curious to see their prodigy in action." Nihlus' harmonics were carefully trained and he could attune them precisely to please the human ear. To Alyssa he sounded friendly, while other turians would most likely have found his tone condescending. Even so, Alyssa didn't relax.

Major Vytes picked up on the oddity of his words as well. "See our prodigy in action? I thought Mr. Kryik was accompanying the Normandy on her shakedown run rather than assessing Shepard?"

Anderson looked slightly uncomfortable for a brief moment. He recollected himself quickly. "Yes, Nihlus is primarily here for the Normandy's shakedown run. However, young talent such as Shepard rarely goes unnoticed and it will be good for her further career to be assessed by a SpecTRe. His recommendation could bear great value in the long run." Nihlus clicked his mandibles but said nothing.

Rachel fixed Anderson with a stare and maintained a brief, calculating silence before speaking. "You could make a good politician one day, Captain Anderson." She was rewarded with a glare.

Alyssa Shepard regarded the exchange with stunned reticence. The turian SpecTRe seemed friendly to her but she couldn't quite shake the Major's words and her request that Alyssa be cautious. Moreover, the mistrust was blatantly visible on Rachel's face. As one of the leading instructors in the N7 training program, Major Vytes had spent plenty of time with her students and Alyssa knew that she wasn't good at hiding her emotions. It was the main reason she had remained an instructor, rather than climbing higher in the SA specialist military segment. Alyssa concluded it would be wise to diffuse the situation before they would prove the dominating belief that humanity had an extremely short fuse in front of one of the most prominent SpecTRes.

"I'll do my best to live up to expectations, Captain Anderson. Mr. Kryik, you will be impressed." She delivered the last line with confidence and looked at the turian, who had narrowed his eyes and continued his study of Shepard's demeanor.

Anderson nodded and extended his arm toward the Normandy, indicating it was time to leave. "Thank you for bringing Shepard here, Major. I will take care of her from here." He hoped Rachel would pick up on the promise the way he intended it. She seemed to understand and humored him with a smile.

"Yes, take good care of my best student." Warmth returned to her face when she shook Alyssa's hand and told her again to be careful. The concern was still audible in her voice. Then she turned and walked away.

Alyssa watched her go with mounting sadness. She wondered if she would ever see Rachel again. A part of her felt something ominous was about to happen, and her assignment to the Normandy was only the beginning of it. The start of something big. Reluctantly she turned toward the ship and followed the human and turian inside.

* * *

Somewhere in a distant nebula, a vast space station hovered in the emptiness lit by the slowly faltering rays of a dying star. A handsome, greying man sat by a large port window, looking out at the bright light. Tendrils of smoke rose from his right hand and moved upward to be inhaled by the room's ventilation system.

A beep at his terminal moved his attention away from his ruminations. He dipped the tip of his cigarette into a small, elegant ashtray and opened the message. He read it with growing interest. Having reached the final line, his lips formed a smug smile.

Yes, he could use his brand-new field operative after all. He knew exactly how.

* * *

_A/N: I am not dead! I did take a long time outlining this new story. And, well, life got in the way of things too._

_This is the first of three prologues to my new story. I am using prologues to set the scene, so they may be slightly heavy on character background. Hopefully you will forgive me. As you may have read in the summary, this story is my AU version of ME1. I don't want to say too much about the plot changes, but suffice it to say that Cerberus will play a bigger role in this version than in the original game. You'll just have to wait and see what happens ;-)_

_My thanks go out to Logical Premise and ShadowBlazer for very helpful initial comments and discussions. And thanks to you, readers, for taking the time to read all the way to the bottom._


	2. Prologue II: The Asari and the Krogan

She stretched on her small, makeshift cot in an attempt to please her sore muscles. The abysmal sleeping conditions on dig sites were a definite negative side of being an archaeologist, but she wasn't complaining. Smoothing the wrinkles out of her characteristic white and blue University of Serrice uniform, Liara T'Soni remembered how lucky she had been to even be able to stay at the university at all. There were just not enough credits available for research into the Prothean demise. She couldn't understand why. To Liara, studying and discovering what had caused the end of Prothean civilization was key to understanding both history and the present. Even though she could easily make up a flawless reasoning for why her research should be funded, she had found that she was too socially awkward to be able to actually convince others and obtain extra funding through fundraisers. She had been able to stay at the university only by virtue of her promising skills as a researcher. Secretly, it pleased her in a way. She had studied and trained hard to become the researcher she was. In some wicked way, being able to continue her research without proper funding was a validation of her expertise. At least, it's what she kept telling herself.

Grabbing a small brush she turned to work on her latest find. It was a small, black orb, lined with strange markings. She had pried it out of a rock just yesterday but had been too tired by then to clean the whole thing properly. The rock formation in the mines of Therum was not exactly easy to work with and it had taken her hours of chipping and drilling before she could finally take hold of the orb. She set to work on it with meticulous care; not knowing whether it was fragile at all, she didn't want to risk damaging it more than years of existence in a rocky oblivion already had.

Liara liked the finesse and fine detail required to handle artifacts. That was definitely a plus side of being an archaeologist. Her natural attention for detail helped, of course, but it was mostly her curiosity at uncovering something heretofore unknown that kept her endlessly fascinated. The same trait also ostracized her from most of asari society, and even a large part of her colleagues at the University of Serrice shunned her. Some had gone as far as to destroy a couple of artifacts she had found. They had never owned up to the deed but Liara knew who they were and why they had done it. 'Purebloods' were not widely accepted in asari society. She had never cared that much but accepted her situation for what it was. She felt good being alone on digs.

As she brushed some of the lighter dust off the small orb, its appearance gradually changed from a matt black to a shiny obsidian. The intricate markings were dark red and snaked around the whole artifact, giving it an almost eerie look. Liara had no idea what it was for but thought it was beautiful nonetheless. _If you don__'__t know what it is, assume it__'__s a religious object_. She chuckled at this age-old archaeological solution to the unknown.

A sudden loud churning of her stomach reminded her that she had started her workday all too enthusiastically. Yet again. She carefully set the orb down on the foldable metal table in front of her and turned to her supply box. Liara noticed she was down to a mere handful of Thessian crackers, famous for their longevity and nutritional value. She would have to leave Therum in a couple of days to restock. She hoped she would have figured out more information concerning the orb by the time she had to leave. It was entirely possible she'd have to keep digging; perhaps there were more objects scattered in the mine. So far the orb had been her best find.

A noise coming from above interrupted her musings. She stopped chewing and focused on the source. She could ever so faintly make out a deep voice and…something else. Some sort of…_beeping?_ Liara stood up in a vain effort to get closer to where the sound was coming from. The voice was definitely a krogan's; no other species had voices that carried this far. But what were the other sounds? Confused, she put her food away and grabbed her M6 Carnifex. She didn't like the prospect of having to shoot someone, but she would if necessary. Making her way to the metal staircase near the back of 'her quarters', she tried to be as silent as possible. She couldn't hear the visitors anymore, but she wasn't about to be fooled into thinking they had left. They had probably just stopped speaking and continued on into the mine. Dread was starting to creep around her consciousness. Liara had walked up one flight of stairs when the krogan spoke again.

"Remember, you artificial scum, Benezia wants her alive."

_Mother?_

Perhaps her mother had sent for her. But why had she sent a krogan and…'artificial scum'? Liara wasn't sure whether she should continue walking toward the party or hide.

"So no shooting the meat until she says so," the krogan added as an afterthought.

Panic shot up Liara's spine and she turned around so quickly that she nearly fell down the flight of stairs she had just climbed. She was vaguely aware of a distinct mechanical beeping, but she was too scared to take any notice. Steadying herself against the rock wall, she quickly considered her options.

Mother wanted her alive, so she wouldn't be harmed. Unless…no. _Surely mother can__'__t have really gone mad? _She had heard rumors of Benezia's involvement with a turian SpecTRe named Saren Arterius having taken a turn for the worse. Some formerly close associates of Benezia's had expressed their concern to the asari Councilor, Tevos, regarding Benezia's recent behavior and partial withdrawal from asari society. Liara hadn't paid the reports any mind. There were always rumors going around about the most powerful members of asari society. She had considered this one, one of many of such rumors. Maybe she had been wrong.

The krogan and his party had descended a few levels and Liara could now hear their footsteps. Panic seized her again and she ran down to her quarters, grabbed the orb and dashed for the elevator. She knew going further down would probably do her no good, but she didn't have much choice.

"STOP! I hear something moving." The krogan bellowed. Liara stiffened. "MOVE! She's somewhere below us. Make sure we don't lose her!"

Liara ran into the elevator and frantically smacked the down button several times. The rickety thing at last began to move and Liara looked around, hoping to find another exit, or at least a good place to hide. She cursed herself for not having taken any precautions in case of an attack. Knowing if there were any alternative exits now seemed like the most important thing ever. Yet nothing ever happened during her digs. Until now.

The elevator stopped and Liara dashed out, running toward an oval opening in the mine's wall. The opening was lined with smooth stones, clearly engineered. Without wasting time to think about what she was doing, she spotted a control panel and studied it quickly. It seemed to control a mass field of some sorts. _Maybe if I can activate it I__'__ll be able to keep them out while I look for another way out of here__…_

The elevator was now going up again, summoned by her pursuers. She could hear the krogan cursing and a machine-like sound…_answering?_ She shook her head and focused on the panel instead. She was pretty sure she could activate the forcefield if she just pressed _this _button. The elevator had fallen silent and would soon be on its way down again. She had no time to look for other switches. Counting on the mercy of the Goddess she pressed the button.

She was instantly lifted into the air and remained suspended in a position that seemed as if she were mid-cartwheel. Shock lined her face and her body hit her with a dose of adrenaline. Her veins pulsed as she strained to pry herself loose, but to no avail. She had trapped herself in the forcefield. Liara struggled to control her panicked breathing in an effort to bring back a measure of rational thought. She seemed to be succeeding until a krogan stepped out of the elevator in front of her, followed closely by beings Liara had never thought she would see this far beyond the Veil.

…_Geth?!_

The krogan spotted her and sneered.

* * *

He loved to feel the comfortable weight of the Hurricane shotgun in his hands. The gun was like an extension of himself: always poised, ready to kill. Blast. Shatter. Destroy. Seeing someone's head blow off was just awesome. One of the best feelings ever. Although he had blasted some heads during this mission, he wasn't feeling particularly joyful about it today. Something was...off. He felt it like that itch that had been settling on his bulky shoulder, just underneath the plated armor. Where he couldn't reach. Of course.

Looking around the volus trading vessel he saw nothing of worth. Just a bunch of food, some medical supplies, and basic weapons. Scrap. It wasn't his job to question his employer's motives, but Urdnot Wrex was no dumb krogan. His fellow mercenaries were brainless, executing orders without giving them a second thought. For Wrex, that was impossible. In his line of trade, however, having brains was more a vice than a virtue. Nobody liked a merc who asked questions. He shrugged off his doubts — incidentally also terminating the damn itch for at least a little while — and started checking the bodies of the fallen guards for any valuables. No harm in securing some extra credits, even if this employer paid very generous wages.

One turian guard was lying face-down in his own puddle of blood. Wrex remembered the kill with some satisfaction. His shotgun had blasted straight through the turian's body armor, leaving a gaping hole with ragged, fleshy edges lined with intestines peeping through. It was like a little work of art. Killing a turian hardly ever was a bad idea. Especially one who pointed a Revenant at your quads. In that case it became an extremely good idea. Wrex bent down and inspected the corpse, hoping to find a credit chit or maybe a nice little weapon stowed away in the turian's broken armor. His pointed teeth glittered in the ship's flashing alarm lights when he found not one, but two credit chits. Maybe his instincts were wrong. Maybe the haul would be good after all.

Wrex suddenly became distracted by a shadow gliding past him, sending chills up and down his spine and both his hearts beating at an increased rate. The silhouette was clearly that of a turian, but his hood and cloak left not much else for Wrex to discern. The unknown turian moved silently but with determination, like a poisonous viper slithering toward its mark. The krogan battlemaster grimaced involuntarily. He knew a lethal enemy when he saw one, and this turian clearly was no pyjak. Some other mercenaries looked up from what they were doing and smiled nervous smiles. Wrex was sure he heard some of them greeting the turian by the name Saren. Their greetings went unanswered as Saren kept walking around, his gaze piercing and just watching everything. Surveying. Assessing. _Watching_. Wrex' itch came back full-force. It was no regular itch and scratching it was therefore pointless. He knew better than to ignore his instincts. Should've known better all along.

_I need to get out of here._

Wrex had a bad feeling about this Saren. He had felt something was off from the start of this mission. Attacking this ship just didn't make any sense. There was nothing valuable here, at least none that Wrex could see. And his mysterious employer had never shown himself before. Not once. No, Wrex didn't like it one bit. And damn his quads if he was wrong. He had to get out of here. _Now_.

He backed away slowly, making sure his retreat remained unnoticed. Saren was watching two mercenaries who were stripping some metal at the back of the room, his posture somehow communicating a readiness to attack. Wrex's claws found a door panel and he pressed it gently, praying the door wouldn't make too much noise. It slid open quietly. Wrex chuckled inwardly at volus being unable to make silent breathing aids while at the same time engineering their ship doors to be deadly quiet. _Stupid, inferior race. Not even worth proper consideration._ He slid through the door and began to make his way toward the shuttle bay. He would get an escape shuttle and fly anywhere but here. Perhaps go to Omega. There was always some fun to be had on Omega.

* * *

"Well, well, look what we got here," the krogan mercenary spat. "A little blue asari, all stuck and helpless." He grinned while eyeing Liara up and down. She was in full blown panic mode now. There was something about being unable to move that struck a primal fear inside her. She had always hated it when the other children trapped her in singularity so they could bully her any way they wanted. She felt so helpless, so inadequate. And here she had stupidly gotten herself trapped and had delivered herself to the mercy of a krogan and geth. She could still hardly believe they were here. It must all be a very bad dream. Liara closed her eyes and wept, unable to do anything else.

The krogan's roaring laughter hurt her eardrums even through the stasis wall. The wall muted all sounds to a large degree, yet the krogan's booming voice seemed to thunder in her head. "Let's get you out of there, little princess, and onto my lap!" The krogan sneered.

_Oh, Goddess, please help me! Please!_

With a swift hand movement the krogan ordered the geth to open fire at the stasis wall, his own shotgun thundering and sending big bullets straight toward Liara. She kept her eyes closed, waiting for the inevitable.

But nothing happened. Liara's prison held. As the krogan's mounting frustration became louder and louder, Liara's feelings went from relief to a renewed, choking panic when she realized she might never get out of here. The last image she saw before fainting were the geth's lights probing her face, and the krogan's teeth promising doom.

* * *

Wrex knew he had made the right choice back at the volus ship when he heard the news. All the other mercenaries on that mission had 'vanished'. Just disappeared without a trace. And here was an agent of the Shadow Broker telling him he could do much better. Mercenaries with an intuition like his were very welcome in the Broker's team.

"Plus, you are way too smart to be a mere mercenary. The Shadow Broker knows of your ambitions for krogan society. He is…sympathetic. He offers his support in return for your services. And a generous pay, of course." The agent smiled.

Wrex didn't trust the agent, but supposed that was only natural. The drell looked and breathed thievery. Yet he worked for the Shadow Broker, and the Broker could be trusted to some degree. If not crossed. Wrex wasn't stupid enough to cross the Shadow Broker. He decided to at least listen to his offer. After all, he hadn't gotten paid for the last mission and Omega had a way of stripping a poor krogan of his credits faster than an asari could strip out of her clothes. It was high time for a next paycheck.

* * *

_A/N: I have always wondered what had happened to Liara on Therum, and what exactly happened to Wrex on that volus ship he spoke to Shepard about. Thought it would be a nice backstory for the prologue. Hope you like it :)_


	3. Prologue III: The SpecTRes

Alyssa could not decide whether she liked the Normandy's helmsman or not. Joker seemed unprofessional and annoying, though he clearly was a friendly guy with a big heart. Maybe she just had to dig a little more. Her rumination led her straight past a young soldier and an Alliance medic she had met before while on an N7 training mission: dr. Chakwas. Alyssa waved a quick salute to the doctor, who was in a heated discussion with the young soldier. He seemed a little too eager to go into battle and the doctor was trying to talk sense into him. Alyssa pretended not to notice the pleading look in the doctor's eyes when she saw her. Soldiers were meant to do battle, after all.

As Shepard entered the comm room, she noticed it was just Nihlus in there, looking at an image of Eden Prime: beautiful foliage basking in a sunlit horizon. He turned toward her upon hearing her light footsteps. "Shepard, I'm glad you arrived first. It will give us a chance to talk." His vibrating harmonics were accommodating to Alyssa's ears, as if she were being spoken to by a friendly father figure.

"Where is Captain Anderson?"

"On his way."

Shepard wondered what Nihlus wanted of her. She still didn't understand why a recently graduated N7 operative would be of such interest to him, 'prodigy' or not. As she opened her mouth to ask him what he wanted to talk about, Nihlus resumed speaking.

"Eden Prime; a symbol for humanity, isn't it? One of your oldest and most successful colonies. Proof that humanity cannot only establish colonies across the galaxy, but also protect them. But how safe is it, really?" His mandibles quivered as the last sound of his harmonics died away.

Alyssa frowned. _What's his point?_ She could be talking herself straight into a trap here, one never knows with SpecTRes... "Why are you asking me that question? I've been to Eden Prime a couple of times and it never struck me as unsafe. But that's not what you mean, is it?"

Nihlus let out a quaint whistle, which Alyssa couldn't quite place. She had dealt with turians before, but mostly in very formal settings. She had never _really_ talked with one of them and so she didn't know how to interpret turian sounds or expressions. Nihlus intrigued her. Shepard didn't like being unable to understand signs. She decided she needed to learn more about turian culture and mannerisms.

"The galaxy can be a dangerous place. Is the Alliance truly ready for this?"

His question merely served to puzzle her further and her eyes narrowed. _What is he implying?_

The comm door swooshed open and Captain Anderson's heavy footsteps echoed through the room. Alyssa saw Nihlus' expression change but - again - didn't know what it meant.

"I think it's about time to tell commander Shepard what's really going on." Anderson gave her a friendly smile. Nihlus nodded.

"This mission is far more than a simple shakedown run."

_Rachel was right! _

She tried to look composed. "I figured."

Nihlus nodded again. "A covert pick-up will be made on Eden Prime, which is why stealth is important. It's the reason for the Normandy's involvement."

Alyssa took a few seconds to process the information. "It must be a critical mission, then."

Anderson gave a slight nod. He glanced over at Nihlus, who stood watching them impassively. "The mission comes from the very top, Shepard. Information is on a strictly need-to-know basis. That's why we couldn't say anything before." He paused. "A beacon was unearthed during an excavation by a research team. They suspect it's prothean."

Alyssa's eyes went wide. "I thought protheans had long vanished?"

"Their legacy still remains." Nihlus answered. "The mass relays, the Citadel, our ship drives — it's all based on prothean technology."

"This is a big discovery." David added. "The last time humanity made such a discovery, our technology jumped forward two hundred years. And that was just a small data cache they found on Mars. Who knows what this discovery might bring? But Eden Prime cannot handle this, they lack the facilities. That's why it needs to be transported back to the Citadel for proper study."

"This discovery transcends humanity; it could affect every species in Council space."

_Ah, so _that's_ why a SpecTRe is involved._ "Why can't humanity deal with it ourselves?" She didn't want to seem overly pro-human, but Alyssa also wasn't feeling like sucking up to the Council. She had seen too much politics and too little action to fully trust the galactic government.

Nihlus clicked his mandibles. "Humans don't have the best reputation. Some species see you as selfish. Too unpredictable. Too independent. Even dangerous." He paused, waiting to see if Shepard would become visibly uncomfortable. She didn't, although she was trying hard to keep her anger in check. "I do not share that opinion without having seen proof. Furthermore, the beacon cannot fall into the wrong hands. The Attican Traverse isn't the most stable sector of Citadel space. There are plenty of raiders and criminal groups active in the region. It's only a matter of time before news about the beacon's discovery spreads." Without realizing it, Alyssa felt somewhat placated by Nihlus' voice.

Anderson cleared his throat, drawing attention back to himself. "Sharing this discovery with the Council will improve our standing with them. Plus, we need their expertise. They know more about the protheans than humans do."

Alyssa nodded affirmatively.

Nihlus stepped forward, bringing himself closer to Shepard and on the edge of her personal space. "The beacon is not the only reason I'm here."

"As we said before, Nihlus wants to see you in action, Shepard." Anderson interrupted. He looked slightly annoyed. "He's here to evaluate you as a candidate for the SpecTRes."

Alyssa gasped in shock. That couldn't be true. _No way! _

Anderson continued. "The Alliance wants more say in the Council. They've been pushing for a human SpecTRe for a long time. You're our best candidate."

"You alone survived a thresher maw attack on Akuze, which takes not only courage but also incredible skill." This time Alyssa could hear the appreciation in Nihlus' voice, though the reminder of Akuze made her feel sick in her stomach. It didn't go well with her heart, which was trying to leap out of her chest. Nihlus didn't seem to notice her unease — or if he did, he ignored it. "That's an impressive feat. The SpecTRes can use people who can encounter thresher maws and live to tell the tale."

Alyssa frowned. Too many thoughts swirled around in her head. Her stomach was now trying to join her heart in its escape from her body. Too many questions. She picked one of them. "Why would a turian want a human in the SpecTRes?" She swallowed, trying to keep the rising bile in check.

"I have no quarrel with humans, Shepard. We are an elite group and it's rare to find an individual with the skills we seek. I do not care that you're human. If you're the best candidate, then it's only right to invite a human into our ranks. I see your species' potential. I see what humanity has to offer the rest of the galaxy."

Her stomach began to settle as Nihlus spoke his words. Alyssa swallowed again and turned toward the Captain. "Do you support this decision?" She couldn't help but notice Nihlus staring at her with keen eyes.

Anderson nodded. "Earth needs this. We are all counting on you, Shepard."

_Whoa, no pressure._

"I need to see your skills for myself." Nihlus interjected. "Eden Prime will be the first of several missions together."

"You'll be in charge of the ground team." Anderson added. "You need to secure the beacon and get it back to the Normandy. Nihlus will accompany you and observe."

Shepard felt the turian SpecTRe standing close to her. She didn't know what to think of it all. Yesterday she was a fresh N7 graduate waiting for her first official post, today she's a SpecTRe candidate. Though Alyssa didn't mind being under pressure and even thought she performed better when strained, the magnitude of the events of the last hours frightened her. Her heart was still racing. She glanced over at Nihlus, wishing she could read him better. Or, rather, at all. Yet somehow she thought she might come to like him. He seemed strangely comforting.

_I'm doing this._ "I'm ready."

Captain Anderson smiled at her, the gratitude visible in his dark eyes. "We should be approaching Eden-"

"Captain, there's a problem. You gotta see this!" Joker's voice boomed over the comm. On Anderson's order to bring it up on screen, all three of them turned toward it. The peaceful image of Eden Prime that Nihlus had been admiring just a few minutes ago disappeared. It was instantly replaced by a chaotic scene. There was fire everywhere. Blurry images showing fighting, humans against an unseen enemy. A female soldier shouting 'get down!' Lots of fog, a dark sky. An emergency message saying they're under attack and taking heavy casualties. "They came out of nowhere! We need-" A man cleaved in half. Terrified faces of soldiers. Loud noises. Blasts. A big tentacled ship looming in the sky, red thunder-like cracks surrounding it. People dying. Then, static.

The bile came racing back up. Alyssa wanted to puke.

"Everything cuts out after that. No comm traffic at all. Just goes dead. There's nothing." Joker added with resignation. He rewound the message and paused it at the enormous tentacled ship. Nihlus' mandibles quivered.

David Anderson's frown burrowed so deep that, at any other time, Alyssa would've wondered whether his face would stay that way. He ordered Joker to take them in fast and quiet.

"This mission just got a lot more complicated."

* * *

The Spirits be damned if that SpecTRe, Saren Arterius, hadn't gone rogue. Garrus Vakarian was sure of it. He didn't care that Saren was a turian as well. Garrus' father would care. Which is why Garrus didn't. He just wanted to find the proof he needed to support his claim. If only he could find _something_. But Saren was very careful.

_Sneaky bastard. I__'__ll get you._

Garrus shuffled through his notes on his datapad. He kept looking at the same things over and over again. Searching for a clue. Something he'd missed before. Who knew… Yet coming out empty handed day after day was getting highly annoying. His superiors at C-Sec expected him to deliver or move on to a different investigation. Garrus couldn't afford to take much longer. He'd have to take a risk, draw outside the lines. He didn't mind. It was what he was good at. His father detested it. A turian that didn't follow the rules was practically a krogan, but better looking. If only by an inch.

But first, go through it all again. Supposedly, Saren had attacked a human colony. Ambassador Udina had complained loudly — _in that horrible whining voice of his_ — to the Council, accusing the renowned SpecTRe of high treason. Such allegations required an investigation by Council law, and so the Council authorized C-Sec to look into Saren's actions surrounding the events of the attack on the colony. That was immediately the extent to which Garrus was accommodated in his investigation, however. Saren's missions were classified, and most of what he did outside his missions was classified too. 'Sanctioned Council mandate'. It was political speak for 'piss off', and that's exactly what it did to Garrus. It pissed him off.

_Damn politicians_.

Involuntarily Saleon's sleek image formed in Garrus's mind. Bureaucrats should be damned too. He had nothing positive to say about them. But this was no time to get angry. He had to think clearly. He pictured a sniper rifle in his mind and immediately felt better.

While not a member of the Council, the human ambassador Udina wasn't any different than the politicians in the Council. Ever since that human colony was attacked, Udina stalked into C-Sec's headquarters nearly every day, asking for results but delivering no concrete evidence or anything else that may be remotely useful to help the investigation along. Needless to say, Executor Pallin wasn't pleased with this unwanted attention. And his displeasure found its victim in…Garrus. The Executor didn't even seem to care that both Saren and the Council made his investigation a sore fringe every step of the way. Garrus knew the Council could authorize him to look into Saren's classified files if they wanted to, but they didn't. He suspected that they didn't want their prodigy to be found guilty of treason. It wouldn't look good. It would probably also strengthen humanity's claim to get a seat on the Council through some political backlash. That would lead to a relative decrease in asari, turian and salarian power in galactic politics. And the Executor himself just couldn't stomach that a fellow turian would derail like that. But what did Garrus know about these intrigues. He was just a simple C-Sec officer.

He let out a low rasping chuckle at that thought. _Better a lowly crime investigator than a damn politician. They__'__ll sell their children before they__'__ll give up any of their precious power. _

For some reason that made him think of his father.

A beep coming from his datapad made him start. It was quickly followed by a second beep. Garrus tapped the message button with some apprehension. One message was from the Executor himself. _Probably not a party invitation_. Garrus decided to pretend he hadn't seen that message yet, and instead turned to the second message. He didn't know its sender, someone called dr. C. Michel. The message was brief but its content bored into Garrus's mind.

'_You__'__re investigating the SpecTRe. I have information that can help you. Come find me. CM__'__._

He didn't know what the semi-secrecy was for. This dr. Michel could at least have done him the courtesy of telling him _where_ to go. Now he'd have to go back to C-Sec headquarters and ask the information staff officers to search their files for a dr. Michel. He considered the possibility that the doctor was in some sort of danger for contacting him. It would surely warrant caution. He absentmindedly checked his Carnifex for ammo.

His datapad beeped again. The Executor had set a reminder in case his message wasn't read within two minutes of being sent. A grunt escaped Garrus's mouth. He really disliked the man. But he wasn't about to go all the way back to C-Sec hearing that beep every two minutes. With a resigned sigh he opened the message and immediately wished he had been more patient with the beep.

'_Vakarian, we need to talk about your investigation. Come to the Tower. Now.__'_

He was screwed.

Probably.

With great reluctance Garrus started toward the Tower, fully expecting politics to step in the way of his investigation yet again. His job would have to wait.

* * *

Her office was very tidy, and, in accordance with her preferences, completely private. There were a series of double doors between her and the first guard posted outside in the hallway of the 178th floor. The massive windows in her office could be turned opaque when she wanted complete privacy. There were always drones flying by, sent up high by young, hopeful reporters naive enough to think they could steal a sneak peek of her activities. A tiny VI turret fixed to the outer wall of the building sent the drones back to them in smouldering shards, but she wanted the extra security provided by the opaque windows nevertheless. There was always the occasional lucky drone that managed to get up high enough to take a snapshot, and even a harddrive blasted to pieces could sometimes be recovered if the right person — if quarians counted as people — was set to the task. She valued her privacy.

Now it was dark out; a deep night had settled in on the eternally peaceful planet. Even the light rain that drizzled on the living and the manufactured alike couldn't break the serenity. Yet she wasn't feeling so serene herself. She didn't have much time. Resist for too long, and the shrieks inside her brain would become too much to bear. The calls were simply too strong. She had to return soon.

She needed to get a message out quickly or run the risk of losing all that was important to her. She couldn't let that happen. It took all of the strength she had left in her to get the datapad out of the drawer of her mahogany desk without letting herself fall to the floor. _I__…__just need__…__to__…__ahhh! __— __Need__…__she must__…_

So self-absorbed in her resistance, she never heard the hole being cut into her window. A sudden blow to her head undid the feeble control she had over her legs and she crashed to the floor. The datapad succumbed to her weight and broke in half. She saw two sleek figures standing next to her before her eyes closed and the darkness overtook her.

"Let's bag her and get out of here. I don't want to be on this ugly whore's planet a second longer than I have to," one of the figures spat.

* * *

_A/N: This was the last of the prologues, I promise. Next up: Eden Prime. _


End file.
